Page 28 of Forged Alliances
Chapter Thirteen
Sweat trickled down Sierra’s back, having nothing to do with the blistering day. Her fists clenched as Dorlan and Dax went toe-to-toe inside the arena. She wasn’t the only one watching in loaded silence. Members of the Silver Springs pack had shown up, including a couple of the idiots who’d chased Dax out. She recognized the older one Dax called Uncle Aiden, though the woman he’d been with earlier, Rylie, hadn’t shown her face.
The Tribe watched from their seats with the stony faces of judgment Sierra had expected. She’d seen Jess in action before, her jaguar as lethal as her human form with a spirit-given magic for manipulating the air around her. Somehow having a squad of them here made the situation graver. They would stand witness to justice even if the fight grew brutal. Even if it became life-threatening. Sierra’s throat dried as she tried to swallow the fear choking her veins.
Dorlan pawed at the ground, the big black bear radiating uncontrolled fury. Some might find the massive shifter formidable, but Sierra was much more impressed by the cool tension emanating from Dax’s mountain lion. Even his attack, the quick swipes to irritate and wear his opponent down, reflected the man she’d come to know. Go figure, that happened to be his same style of flirtation as well—annoy her half to death until, before she could stop herself, she confessed her deep darks and bonded with him to a degree she never had before. A half smile rose to her lips, one she shook off.
Dax coiled around the bear, his circles growing tighter and tighter. Every time Dorlan charged, Dax would bide his time, veering away at the last minute. However, he left less space each time, closer and closer to a lethal attack.
While Jess and Lucas watched from their lawn chairs with a hungry interest, Navi had begun picking her nails with her knife, and Akio feigned disinterest even though his eyes kept slipping to the scene. Jareth’s eyes appeared closed in slumber, but Sierra had the feeling if anyone tried to get the jump on him, the trespasser would be sorely outmatched. Whatever reason the Tribe had to be in the area, this was clerical work along the way to something much bigger.
Dorlan roared, blood leaking from his side and rage blooming in his eyes. Sierra predicted Dax’s attempt, because she would’ve pulled the same maneuver. Except compared to his obnoxious feline patience, even she came off like a hothead. The bear charged again, kicking up dust in the process. Grit roiled all around, carried by the breeze to spray out against the audience. Coughs peppered the place, and Sierra lifted her arm over her mouth for cover.
Through the clouds of dust, Dorlan charged Dax, driven by reckless rage. While the bear alpha had immense weight on his side, he was slower, clumsier, and Dax took ruthless advantage. The cat wove back and forth until the bear veered too close to stop, and then Dax rerouted. With liquid smoothness, he swerved to the left.
Right as Dorlan swiped in the same direction.
Sierra’s hands balled into fists. If Dorlan surged too fast for Dax to escape, he’d get mauled.
Dax ducked.
Instead of retreating, instead of circling out of the way again, the mountain lion lunged in. He rammed his skull straight into Dorlan’s neck.
The sound of impact echoed throughout the clearing, and relief swept Sierra in one quick flush. Dorlan swayed on his feet, but Dax didn’t give him any quarter. The mountain lion whipped around to slam his full weight into the bear’s side, sending him toppling. Once he seized the advantage, Dax pinned him down.
He rested one pad over his windpipe, the claws close to biting past skin. Dax kept his gaze trained on Dorlan, who thrashed, attempting to breathe. The gasps and wheezes sounded painful, and Sierra couldn’t help but wince. She’d been in chokeholds before. Dax had the advantage.
Their eyes met, and the bear nodded.
Dax lessened the pressure against his throat so he could breathe, but didn’t get off him, nor did Dorlan struggle. Dax cast his gaze over to the Tribe.
Lucas got up from his neon-green lawn chair with a creak and walked to the center of the clearing. Lifting his hands, he began the count.
Dax didn’t shift in the slightest, his claws out in case Dorlan decided at the last second to give it another go. With the way Dax positioned himself, he could slice the bear’s throat right open then and there.
“Aaaaaaand one,” Lucas boomed, sweeping his hands out. “I hereby declare Dax Williams of the Silver Springs pack the winner.”
The loyal Silver Springs watching in the crowds erupted in powerful roars that quaked the air. Swept up in the relief and euphoria of Dax’s victory, Sierra lifted her head to the sky and howled, the cry of her wolf piercing the clearing. Her pack followed suit until the howls and the roars meshed together in one furious melody.
Both Dax and Dorlan shifted to their human forms, stark naked in the clearing. Dax flashed a quick smile to the crowds, the slick sort she expected from him. Leaning down, he offered a hand to help Dorlan up.
“Tough luck, man,” he said as the bear alpha accepted the assist.
“You could have killed me, but you didn’t,” Dorlan responded, putting his hand out to shake. “The Underwood pack will remember that kindness when you’re alpha of the Silver Springs pack.”
Dax grunted in response, slapping his palm against the bear alpha’s and shaking. Neither man said anything more, but instead they strode toward the crowds, leaking blood from the myriad cuts and wounds they’d garnered during their fight. The members of the Underwood clan in the crowd rushed to their alpha, towels in hand.
Even though she didn’t have the same reasons as Dax’s pack to approach, Sierra couldn’t help herself. Kyle and the others raced ahead of her, but the accelerated thump-thump in her chest wouldn’t calm until she knew none of the wounds were life-threatening. Injuries might also set him back in a future fight. The worry that ran rampant through her during the fight traveled deeper than normal, another indicator of how he’d infected her.
Even with all the folks surrounding him, Dax met her eyes. The small smile he flashed her pierced straight through her heart, more raw and real than any of the flirty grins he offered the crowds and his pack. Her heart thundered to the forefront of her focus, making her all too aware of the flush traveling up her skin at the memory of yesterday and the barriers they’d begun to break down.
“Exciting fight, right, boss?” Finn clapped a hand on her back, drawing her focus away from Dax for a moment. “Why don’t we prep to celebrate his victory back at the tavern?”
Sierra studied Finn for a moment. With the insistent way he glanced at his car, he had more than prepping the tavern on his mind. Chances were, he wanted answers, and as her second in command, she owed him some real talk.
“Let’s go,” she said with a nod. Tossing a hand up, she called to the crowd, “Red Rock, Underwood, Silver Springs pack, and any Tribe members who like, we’ll be celebrating with drinks back at the Beaver Tavern tonight.” Even though she longed to turn around, push through the crowd, and run her hands over every inch of Dax, for the time being she had enough self-control. Besides, the second she slid her fingers across those defined abs of his, the urge to jump his bones would overrule reason.
Finn had driven her and Jer here, so she hopped into the passenger side of his Challenger, glancing around.